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FRANK PASTORArena League kickoffs mean violent collisions, wacky bounces and turnovers or TDs.
TAMPA - The ball is in the air.
His gaze skyward, his back exposed to onrushing tacklers, Storm kick returner T.T. Toliver positions himself at the base of the net and waits.
One thought supersedes all others: Please don't hit the iron.
Bad things happen when kickoffs hit the iron. Balls come off at unpredictable angles, leading to mad scrambles in the end zone, violent collisions and, in the worst of circumstances, turnovers.
Special-teams coach Mitch Matuska remembers a Mike Black kickoff hitting the crossbar and rebounding to the 15-yard line, where Tampa Bay's Darion Conner caught it in midair. Kick returner Freddie Solomon saw a ball bounce so far out of the end zone, he and teammate Lawrence Samuels nearly collided headfirst pursuing it. Just a few weeks ago, Samuels and San Jose's Rashied Davis met helmet to helmet in the end zone, creating a thunderous sound that could be heard six floors up in the press box. A few feet from where Davis lay crumpled, Samuels held the ball he had recovered for a Storm touchdown.
Largely because of the mayhem that ensues, the kickoff is the most exciting play in Arena football.
"It's fastbreak basketball," Solomon said. "I love it. It's so fast-paced, it's like one play off the net can change the whole difference of the game in two to three seconds."
Toliver receives the ball cleanly off the left net, turns and scans the field. He sees a "threat" to his left in the form of Austin defensive specialist Brandon Daniels. But Solomon, whose job is to secure the area, blocks Daniels' path, allowing Toliver to cut back to the right.
With teams averaging about 50 points, there can be 12 to 15 kickoffs a game, sometimes more. And that doesn't count missed field goals, which also can be returned. Each is a chance to alter the game.
A touchdown return can be a huge swing in a sport full of them. It can mess up substitution patterns, allow one team's offense to rest while putting pressure on the other to match the score.
Put enough special-teams plays together, and you win a game.
Put enough of these games together, you can win a championship.
"The team that's the best right now is San Jose, and that guy (Rashied) Davis is one of the tops in the league," Matuska said. "That's how they've generated a lot of offense, and even if you're not returning it for a touchdown and you're starting on a short field, the probability of scoring goes way up and the momentum of it is so important for the team, too."
Much of the Storm's movement has been backward, and special teams played a role in the 5-7 start. When Tampa Bay allowed Georgia's Markeith Cooper and Carolina's Jarrick Hillery to return kickoffs for touchdowns, it lost. When Toliver took two kicks the length of the field April 18 against Austin, the Storm won.
Upfield, the Storm doubles Austin wide receiver/linebacker Darrin Chiaverini, while fullback/linebacker David White and wide receiver/linebacker David Saunders block fullback/linebacker Dane Krager, allowing Toliver to get to the corner. Wranglers lineman Tom Briggs moves inside to cover Chiaverini's lane.
The Storm devotes part of each practice to special teams. It works on kickoff coverage on Wednesdays, introduces new returns on Thursdays, puts the returns on the field on Fridays and ties together any loose ends on Saturdays.
Knowing that Austin lines up in the same kickoff coverage every week, Matuska put in a new return for Sunday's game.
The play hinges on two double-team blocks: the guard and center on the outside lineman and the defensive specialist and fullback/linebacker on the other team's defensive specialist.
The rest is up to Toliver.
The first thing he does is pick up the ball in flight and determine whether it is going left or right. He tries to judge whether it will take a hard or soft bounce off the net.
Usually, it takes a soft bounce, allowing Toliver to settle underneath it.
But not always.
"The tricky thing is, when it hits that pole, you never know where it's going to go," Toliver said. "You've got to judge. Hopefully, your judgment will be right."
If Toliver's judgment is off it's usually because he seldom fields kicks off the net. Most teams share arenas with basketball or hockey teams, forcing them to practice outdoors. And it's not like you can string a 30-foot wide by 30-foot high rebound net between two light poles.
"Catching it off the net is all about repetition," Toliver said. "The more reps you get, the better you are. With the (St. Pete Times Forum) being used, it's kind of hard for us to get inside, so the only thing we can do is practice outside and just hope."
Toliver shrugs off Briggs' shoulder tackle and turns upfield, where he finds a running lane down the right sideline. Only Saunders and Austin kicker Tony Dodson are ahead of him.
For a coverage player, there is no more enticing target than a kick returner - his back turned, awaiting the ball while he stands in his end zone. With rules that forbid touchbacks, he is largely defenseless.
"That's pretty much the most violent collision you'll see in this game," Samuels said. "Special teams is all-out. A player can get up to full speed very quick. It's a pretty good chance you'll see a big hit in any kind of special teams, even if a guy is blocking or a guy is covering."
Depending on the coverage that is called, Samuels, a receiver/linebacker, might be responsible for an area of the field or run straight to the ballcarrier as a "bullet." Just because a player lines up on one side of the field doesn't mean he'll end up there.
Many teams double-team fast players, leaving bigger players to make open-field tackles. To combat this, coverage teams will move around their personnel to put it in the best position to make a play.
If a kick hits the iron or even the net nearest the iron, which is pulled tighter and produces a stronger bounce, everybody becomes an offensive player.
Dodson turns as Saunders tries to block him and is pushed to the turf. Only Daniels, who has caught up to the play, remains in Toliver's path.
Once the ball is safely in his hands, Toliver begins to think about the blocking scheme. Most are pretty basic: return right, return left, wedge.
As he turns from the net, he has one thought, pounded into him by coach Tim Marcum: get positive yards. Don't dance around, don't try to juke tacklers.
Get upfield.
If his teammates hold their blocks, Toliver should find a seam, usually in the middle of the field. Since there are no sidelines in Arena football, coverage teams try to use the barriers as an extra man.
Once he's in the open field, Toliver can use his quickness, elusiveness and determination to outrun defenders and break tackles. If he breaks through the first wave, well, there is no second wave.
Unless you count the kicker.
"If I let that guy tackle me, I'm going to get clowned in the meeting room," Solomon said. "So you're thinking touchdown. You can't get tackled by the kicker."
Toliver holds off Daniels with a stiff arm as he crosses the goal line, completing a 53-yard return for a touchdown, his second of the game.
The Storm, winless in five of six previous games, prevails 58-52, in overtime. One week later, Toliver returns a kickoff 58 yards for a touchdown in a 46-36 victory over Columbus.
Coincidence? Not likely.